Whispers
by Never Stop Believing in Love
Summary: Pairing Boyd & Grace. They don't spend all their time shouting ... sometimes they whisper.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC**

**Content: Boyd and Grace **

**Rating: K**

**Apart from being a big bit of fluff I honestly really have no idea what this is! I just kinda liked the concept. So ahem yea …. hope you enjoy it anyway – and thanks as always for taking the time to read! **

**Whispers**

Her skin tingles as tiny electrical currents surge through her body beneath the warmth of his breath which lingers dangerously close to her ear. She smiles against him, her body involuntarily shuddering as shivers like frozen ice trace a path along her spine and cascade through her. His expensive scent hangs heavily in the air between them, so familiar and comforting. He sits close, his shoulder touching hers and she feels safe, secure at his presence. His proximity causes her heart rate to escalate rapidly sending her pulse racing, pumping, driving blood swiftly through her, until finally she hears the crescendo of her heart echo loudly in her ears. The softness of his beard lightly caresses her face as his words leave tiny beads of moisture on her cheek. Words shared only between lovers, hidden from the rest of the world, destined for them alone to hear. Words so tender, gentle, loving and whispered.

This affectionate expression of emotion stands in stark contrast to the gruff man who quietly voices them. The world's perception fighting to define him. No-one would expect this level of tenderness from him, only she. She had come to know the man behind the stern hardened exterior; she had stayed, stood resolutely and often stubbornly beside him. She listened beyond the brusqueness and remorseless bristling, she had faced his blistering storm head on until finally she was rewarded with a whisper. The same perfectly formed mouth which roared ferociously in an explosion of tumultuous fury and rained down torrents of abuse like brimstone disintegrating everything in its wake, now spoke in soft melodic tones which playfully and seductively danced lightly in her ears.

It had been in hushed whispers that he had first made his feelings known to her. His deep baritone voice low and husky, his mouth dry as nervous anticipation stole every piece of moisture from it. The atmosphere was heavy and dangerously charged; electricity like lightening sparking in the space between them and igniting long felt but relentlessly supressed desires. He moved cautiously, leaning in close to her. His cavernous eyes nervously glistened in the evening light as he silently held her gaze, drinking her in, almost as though he was seeing her for the very first time. Her dark sapphire eyes sparkled, her pupils almost black dilated instantly, reflecting his own tentative emotions, apprehension and desire as he quietly whispered.

"You're beautiful, Grace ... you know that don't you?"

She had laughed hesitantly as crippling insecurity seized her throat preventing her reply.

"I'm serious Grace ..." His timbre was soft, his words deliberately chosen as he continued. "…. completely, utterly, captivatingly, beautiful."

Boyd watched quietly amused as her cheeks flushed at his declaration, and marvelled at how totally unaware she was of just how beautiful he thought her to be. Slowly, tentatively, he reached up to brush aside a stray lock of her hair which had fallen softly on her face and allowed his hand to remain on her cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. She instinctively leaned further into his touch, their eyes still firmly locked on the other, unable or unwilling to break the spell. Silently they weighed up the folly of stepping over the last remaining boundary they had placed between them but unashamedly their bodies revelled in the newness of the intimacy of their contact. Both were heartbreakingly aware that if they crossed this line there was no turning back. It was all or nothing. The road ahead, should they choose it, would not be easy. A road filled with compromise, and forgiveness.

Boyd closed the gap between them. His mind was screaming caution, reminding him of the stupidity of his actions and taunting him with the fear of rejection. There were a million reasons why he shouldn't - why they shouldn't - be doing this, but there was one very good reason why he was. It was this one reason that took precedence over every other emotion or fear that was threatening to suffocate him. He was too tired of fighting it any longer. The constant battle of internal denial had taken its toll and he was now simply ready to accept what he suspected had always been the inevitable and take the chance. It was the only encouragement he needed. The simple, pure, honest truth of the matter was that he was in love with her and right now nothing else mattered.

She could see the feral look in his eyes, instinctively she knew what he was thinking, what he was about to do and it made her feel more alive than ever before. Expectation like adrenalin seized control of every part of her as she unconsciously held her breath. After all this time, after everything they had shared, everything they were to one another, she knew they were about to tear down the final divide.

Neither said a word as their eyes continued to search the other looking for any signs of doubt. They found none. Instead only years of supressed desire and want flooded from deep within them like waterfalls from the depths of their souls.

"Grace…"

Her whispered name was the last thing she remembered before his lips tenderly and expertly covered hers. His kiss was gentle, slow and loving. They had waited a long time for this and Peter Boyd was not about to rush this moment like some hormonal teenager. No, this was a moment to take slowly, and to cherish.

Even now, almost a year later he can still remember that first kiss. The feel of her mouth beneath his, how soft her skin was under his touch, and the texture of her hair as it tumbled through his fingers. He can still clearly recall the way she huskily and breathlessly whispered his name and the response his body had as it shuddered in reply. She still invoked the same reaction, still held ultimate power and dominion over him. It is not when she shouts and furies that he is in trouble, but when she whispers. It is in whispered tones that she is at her most dangerous and he is rendered totally helpless, incapacitated and completely unable to deny her anything. All he has is hers, materially, physically, and emotionally. As her gentle words embraced and soothed him he knows there is nothing he wouldn't do for her, nothing he wouldn't give her.

They are both fully aware that their relationship has generated its own whispers as colleagues try to figure out the nature of their ever increasing closeness. They have long since stopped caring about being the centre of the mindless office gossip. Grace knows that the world does not understand why she would choose someone as hot-headed and cantankerous as Peter Boyd, but the world doesn't see him as she does. They only hear what he wants them to hear. The rest …the gentle, tender, loving whispers he saves only for her.

Fin


End file.
